Luke Triton and the Enigmatic Puzzle
by ThinkingCAPSLOCK
Summary: A Valentine's saga in the confines of Grossenheller University. Layton/Legal Luke
1. Chapter 1

**Luke Triton and the Enigmatic Puzzle – Part 1 –**

With Valentine's Day approaching, Luke was at a loss. Now in his first year at Grossenheller University and living in the dormitories, the only time he saw the professor was during lectures.

Which, of course, occurred only twice a week.

Luke moaned and slammed his head on the desk table. He could have lived with the professor. He could have commuted with the professor. Then he'd have all the time in the world to solve puzzles and drink tea.

Now he couldn't even make tea in his room without getting a six page letter from his don, Paolo, about how he was likely to burn the residence down if he so much as touched a kettle.

Right. Because that was _likely_.

No, Luke had taken the stupid option. He wanted to seem brave to the professor. He wanted to prove that he really _was_ an adult.

The problem with was that he _wasn't_. He didn't feel like it, anyway. He missed puzzles. He missed travelling to strange places and going on adventures. He missed his teddy bear.

He missed the professor.

He would've given a thousand picarats for the opportunity to be read a bedtime story about baseball, like the old days. He missed the bedtime story game. He missed his blue painted bedroom and his overweight hamster. He missed the soulless black eyes of his mentor.

He briefly considered making up a problem with the recent archaeology essay. He could go to the professor's office hours, and…

No. The professor would _know_. He had the top marks in his class—how could he not? He had grown up with the lecture content.

"Yo, man."

Luke raised his head to see his roommate standing in the doorway, looking embarrassed. "Yes…?"

"So, I, er… I didn't hand my last paper in on time… And, uh… You seem to be doing really well in the class. Do you think you could…er… go to the professor and hand it in for me? He won't yell at you…" His roommate scratched his head awkwardly, then held the assignment out.

Luke, at a loss, accepted it. He was torn; here had a chance to see the professor…but he would surely be scolded for going in his peer's place. Really, though, it was no contest. "Sure…I'll go."

It was nearing the end of Layton's office hours by the time Luke arrived. He hesitated outside the door, paralyzed with anxiety. Maybe he should just go back. Maybe he should just tell his roommate to man up and face the consequences. But he couldn't.

"Luke?"

Luke jumped, jarred back to reality. The professor was looking down at him, surprised. "Is something the matter?" He frowned slightly at the teen.

"I—professor—I—" Luke stammered. He settled for just looking away and shoving the paper at Layton.

"Hm?" The professor studied it carefully. "Forgive me, but…the quality seems…lower than usual."

"I-i-it's not mine," Luke corrected quickly.

"Not yours?" Layton tipped his hat. "Then who does it belong to, m'boy?"

"My—my roommate," Luke mumbled quickly.

"Your roommate?"

"He—he was busy and I wasn't, so he…he asked me if…I could take it…to you."

The professor gave a half smile and tapped his nose. "You're lying."

"No!" Luke protested. "I—"

"He wanted you to go in his I would scold him, right? Every puzzle has an answer." The professor shook his head. "Don't let yourself be used, Luke."

"Y-yessir. I should—"

"Would you like some tea? I was about to head home, but I'd never say no to a good cup of Belle Classic!"

"Yessir." Luke allowed himself to be led into the office and lowered himself into an overstuffed armchair. He looked around at the clutter. "It's…it's rather messy in here, professor."

"Hm? Yes, I suppose it is," the professor replied, rooting around in a desk drawer. "Where are my teacups? Ah, here they are. And the kettle…I knew I saw it around here recently."

"If you want, I could… I could maybe tidy—"

"I really need someone to organize for me again. I thought I'd be okay by myself, but it seems I allowed the piles to grow and grow, until…well, I fell into quite the predicament, as you can see." The professor motioned around him.

"I—I could clean for you!" Luke exclaimed.

The professor chuckled. "I was hoping you'd say that! I wouldn't trust any of the other students with my belongings as I do with you."

"Of course! Just—just tell me whenever you're here, outside office hours, I'll come and clean."

"No, no. You mustn't work to _my_ schedule. That would be too much to ask of a burgeoning student!" The professor rattled through another drawer. "Ah! Here it is. Close your eyes and hold out your hands, m'boy, I've got a present for you."

"A—a what?" Luke stared back in shock. Nonetheless, he obeyed the professor's instruction.

"Here you go."

Luke opened his eyes to find a small silver key resting in his palm. "A key?"

"To my office. With this, you can let yourself in whenever you need to, even if I'm not here."

"O-oh. Thank you, professor!" Luke slipped the key into his breast pocket.

"Don't thank me, my boy!" The professor poured a cup of tea and passed it to his protégé. "You're doing _me_ the favour here."

"Yessir." They sat in silence for several minutes as the professor absently began marking the essay. Finally, Luke gulped down the scalding tea and choked, "I should get back now, it's getting late."

"Hm?" The professor raised his head. "Oh, yes. My apologies, I allowed myself to get distracted. Before you go, I found something that I thought you might like. I know you're a bit old for it, but I couldn't help myself. An old man's nostalgia, you know."

Before Luke could argue the professor's age, he was presented a new blue book entitled, "Bedtime Baseball: A Comprehensive Study of Fantastically Awesome Baseball Tales".

"Th-thank you, professor. I'll cherish it."


	2. Chapter 2

**Luke Triton and the Enigmatic Puzzle – Part 2 –**

Having acquired a key to his beloved professor's office and a cleaning job, Luke Triton now had the excuse he needed to visit the professor whenever he wanted.

Drifting on cloud nine, he tentatively put the key in the lock for the first time the next day, excited to see his professor once more. He turned the doorknob anxiously, trying desperately to remain calm on the outside. He failed. He opened the door.

"Good morning, professor!" Luke beamed into an empty office. Empty save for clutter, of course. That had grown exponentially overnight.

Slightly downhearted, Luke dropped into the same overstuffed chair as the previous day. He tried to console himself by thinking that the professor would come by later, but now he wasn't so sure.

Trying to work as slowly as possible, Luke began to clean the room. This proved harder than he though. Having quite the knack for organizing, he would occasionally stop paying attention, only regaining focus after having tidied half a room. He cursed at himself for being so awesome.

To Luke's dismay, it only took him half a day to get the office gleaming. He sat at the professor's desk and groaned, smashing his face into the glazed mahogany and hating himself.

_Click._

"Luke?"  
Luke snorted awake and raised his head blearily, once immaculately sorted post-it notes now plastered to his cheek. "What?"

"Have you not been sleeping well?" The professor folded his travelling coat and draped it over the back of a chair. "You know that learning isn't as effective if you don't sleep enough. That's when all t he new neural networks are formed, my boy."

Luke paused. "What?" he repeated. A luridly coloured post-it fluttered down from his face.

"You. You were sleeping. Are you alright?" The professor gazed down at him in concern.

"Sleeping? What?" Luke gave a strangled gasp as he noted the time on the grandfather clock. "Shit! I have class!" He sprang to his feet, grabbing his messenger bag, then darted out the door.

The professor frowned. "A true gentleman never uses expletives in the company of other gentlemen, Luke."

Luke returned to the office early that evening under the pretence of having forgotten his textbook somewhere in the now neatly arranged piles. Opening the door, he was greeted by the familiar, nostalgic sound of the professor's pen scratching paper. Luke wondered if he was still grading papers.

"Hello, professor." He deposited his bag next to the door. "I forgot my text here earlier, I need it for class tomorrow…"

"Hm? Fine, fine," the professor replied absently, crossing out entire sentences on the page. "These students are driving me mad! Have none of them been taught to write a decent thesis? What is the education system coming to?" He put his pen down and sighed.

"Do you want to hear a puzzle, professor?" Luke consoled. "I thought of it in class."

"Is the answer 'purple'?" The professor replied.

"No," Luke lied. "Well, yes. But I can tell you a different one!"

"Very well. See if you can stump me this time."

Luke thought for a moment. "A man with no eyes sees plums on a tree. He doesn't take some, he doesn't leave some, how can this be?"

The professor considered the problem carefully. "I believe this is a two part puzzle, is it not?"

"Examine the details carefully. Try looking at things from a different angle," Luke hinted unhelpfully. "The answer may not be obvious at first."

"'A man with no eyes but sees plums on a tree'," the professor repeated. "He must therefore have _one_ eye."

"V-very good, professor," Luke said, dismayed at how quickly the professor had caught the trick.

"Now we must consider the number of plums on a tree. If there are two and he takes one, he has neither taken nor left _some_, as _some_ implies more than one." The professor picked up his pen again and began fiddling with it. "Am I correct?"

"A-as expected of the professor," Luke replied. "You got it right away."

Layton turned back to his stack of papers. "Having unearthed the first trick, it was a simple matter to solve the second. You must use a variety of traps in puzzles with more than one part to confuse the puzzler."

"Yes, professor," Luke agreed sadly. "I found my textbook. I should get back to the dorms."

"Go ahead." The professor didn't look up from his work. "Oh, and scold that roommate of yours if you haven't already. A true gentleman faces his own problems head on."

"Of course, professor."

As Luke hefted his bag back over his shoulder and placed a hand on the doorknob, the professor cleared his throat.

"Oh, and, er, come again tomorrow."

"Tomorrow, professor?"

"Yes. I have a…feeling that the clutter will accumulate again." The professor tipped his hat over his eyes and went back to marking.

"Yes, professor!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Luke Triton and the Enigmatic Puzzle – Part 3 –**

_Sexy Teacup Ladies._

Luke stared in horror at issue 28 of _Stirsticks and Teabags._ What was the professor _thinking_, having this in his office?

Granted, it had been rather difficult to find, stashed away in the secret compartment under the desk. Luke was probably the only person other than the professor to have ever even seen the compartment. Yet…it was still _there_, in all its tea-related glory. There for him to find and look at and be terrified by.

When Luke had first entered the office that morning, he had been expecting the clutter to be unbearable, as the professor had warned the evening before. However, when he entered, he found that it was still reasonably tidy. Luke had stood around aimlessly for at least half an hour, then walked around for another half moving knick-knacks from surface to surface. He wondered why the professor had told him to come in this morning. Obviously it couldn't have been to clean. Could it?

This felt nostalgic.

This felt…_like a puzzle._

Luke began to examine clues around the office. Where had the knick-knacks been placed, before? Where was the clutter concentrated?

The answer, of course, had been the desk. A normal person would ignore clutter on the desk. But not Luke.

No, he knew the professor. It was not as though the professor was _intentionally _messy. When he had time, he could keep everything orderly. And he had certainly had time the day before.

So why the mess?

That was the first hint. He had found it an hour ago.

In that time, he had come across various indicators all leading him to the secret compartment.

The secret compartment filled with…skin mags. About tea. Skin mags about tea. Why did those _even exist?_

Luke didn't want to know who invented them. Why they invented them. Why there were _28 issues of them. _Why the professor _read them_. Well, it did make _some_ sense, he supposed. The professor _did_ like tea…he just never imagined that it would be in that _way_.

Finally, Luke mustered his courage and tugged at the cover with two fingers, holding the magazine up by the corner and glancing at it with one eye.

_Fwup._

A sealed white envelope slid delicately from the blank pages onto the desk.

Blank pages.

The magazine was empty.

Luke hesitantly pulled a letter opener from the desk and slit open the side of the envelope. He carefully dragged the paper from its binding and unfolded it to reveal the professor's elaborate inked scrawl.

_Hello, Luke!_

_I see you solved my puzzle. As expected from my number one apprentice! I knew you would find it._

_Did you enjoy the magazine? A friend of mine had it printed up specially for me. I do believe he will look at me differently from now on, but I believe it was worth it. I certainly found it rather amusing. I hope you did, too, even though it was perhaps not the most gentlemanly thing I have ever done._

_Enclosed I have left a map. I say a map, but I'm sure you recognize it as a puzzle. If you follow the instructions properly, you will find something rather interesting. Ah, but don't neglect your studies! Not that you would, of course, my boy. But I do know university students! Sometimes the desire to procrastinate is a little overwhelming._

_Cordially,_

_Hershel Layton_

With mounting excitement, Luke slipped the clue into his pocket and left the office.


	4. Chapter 4

**Luke Triton and the Enigmatic Puzzle – Part 4 –**

It had taken Luke quite some time to decipher the puzzle the professor had left him. In fact, it had taken him his entire Saturday and two trips across the city. The entire ordeal had left him quite exhausted, but filled with a sense of triumph. He had decoded the professor's so-called map, actually a series of hints leading up to this one apartment door.

Tentatively, his slid his hand over the curved door handle. This was it. But what was waiting on the other side? He would have to find out. Pushing his weight into it, he shoved the door open.

Emptiness.

All of that work…and _emptiness._

An empty apartment.

Luke made an indignant sound, unable to properly convey his feelings. What was the point of that long search? Why would the professor make him waste an entire day on this?

Unable to just go home, Luke entered the apartment. Rounding the corner into the kitchen, he spotted a spotless silver tray and tea set placed on the counter. Beneath the teacup, another letter.

_Hello, Luke!_

_ So you've solved yet another one! I realize now that I may have made it a bit too long. Did you have to run around much? My apologies. Next time I will make it shorter. Perhaps I will not put it in a story format. Was that too much?_

_ I'm proud of you for having deciphered this. It was truly a masterpiece. I have left you a tea set to make yourself a hot drink—I daresay you probably need one! Sadly, I was unable to leave you a fresh cup, what with my lack of knowledge of your timing. You will have to make one yourself. I left you the ingredients for Oasis Berry tea. I know how you love sweets! Perhaps, if you complete the next puzzle, there will be cake. I have yet to decide as of this moment._

_ Now, enjoy your tea to its entirety. At the bottom of the kettle, there should be a key. However, this key will only fit in one lock at the attached address. But, there is a condition! The key will break if it is not used in the correct lock. You only have one chance, Luke, so use it well! I trust that you will solve the puzzle._

_ Cordially,_

_Hershel Layton_

Luke put down the letter and boiled water for his tea. He desperately wanted to go to the written address, but daylight was fading fast and he was far too exhausted to think straight. He brewed the tea and drank it quickly, despite the scalding sensation it rose in his throat. He choked slightly, but managed to get to the bottom, shaking the key loose from the kettle. He slipped this into his pocket and tucked the letter into his vest, then left the apartment, opting to return to his apartment.

Luke swiped his keycard lazily and shoved his door open. His dorm was cold and empty. There was no sound from Ben, the infamous late-essay roommate from next door. Luke locked the door and decided to take a shower.

When he had finished, towel wrapped firmly around his waist and hair dripping wet, he threw himself onto the computer chair, staring up at the ceiling. His room had no posters or decorations. He had chosen to leave it a dull white. What would he decorate _with_? He had no photos of the professor, or Flora, or even himself, for that matter. He missed the powder blue of his old room.

The loud rapping on his door brought him from nostalgia back to reality. He quickly pulled on a pair of pants and a shirt, then opened the door sheepishly.

Paolo was standing in the hallway, tapping his foot impatiently and glaring at the teen.

"Er…" said Luke. "I wasn't using my kettle, honestly."

"I know," said Paolo, adjusting his thick-rimmed glasses. "Though your denial _is_ suspicious." He pushed the door wider, entering without permission. "Heh. Your room is cleaner than I thought."

"It's—it's not time for room inspection," Luke protested.

"I know." Paolo looked around. "I'm here to discuss something else."

"Er, now? It's late, and I have to write an essay tomorrow…" Luke muttered.

"I want to know your relationship with the professor."

Luke's face blanched. "My—my what?"

"Your relationship with the professor. Professor Layton! How are you getting such high marks?" Paolo grimaced, annoyed. "I study constantly, yet you continue to best me on _every test_. It's infuriating. You don't seem to study, but…but…" He hid his face in his hand. "Dammit. You must be doing _something_ to be top in the class."

"O-oh," Luke breathed, relieved. "I'm not doing anything, really. I just…I just grew up with the course material, so it's easy for me to understand. That's all, really."

Paolo surveyed him carefully. "First year and already you're above me in skill level." He glared for a few moments longer, then turned away. "Fine. I concede my defeat. You have bested me."

"Um, if you're really having such a hard time, I could help you or something. You know, make a study group? I heard a few other people complaining about the course material."

"An…interesting suggestion. I will consider it. However, I must sleep now. It is getting late. Good night, Triton." Without another word, Paolo left the room.

Luke picked up his hat and rubbed the brim between his forefinger and thumb thoughtfully. "That was quite the surprise."


	5. Chapter 5

**Luke Triton and the Enigmatic Puzzle – Part 5 –**

Luke had never seen so many padlocks in his life.

Sure, there had been that time with the bicycle thief. Or that time with the lock salesman. But this time _was different_.

Luke held up the silver key. "Maybe if I match it to the other locks…" His gaze moved to the twenty-odd locks before him. Every padlock looked the same. _Exactly_ the same, save for a small number printed on each. One through twenty-one.

Vainly, Luke began to search the chains for another letter. No such luck. Perhaps the last note from the professor contained a vital clue?

"_I dare say you deserve one_…" he read aloud. Was that a hint? Was he talking about the first lock? But that…that would seem so obvious. Or was it? Perhaps Luke's puzzle-solving skills had sharpened over the years. But then again…

Luke groaned and shook his head, trying to clear his mind. This wouldn't do. Examine all the possibilities. Try looking at the puzzle from a different angle.

Luke reread the letter. Maybe it was the number of cups of tea that fit in the kettle? Like some sort of liquid measurement game?

…how many cups did he drink again? Was it two? Or three?

Again, a dead end. The first lock was still looking best…but "one" seemed like such an unlikely number. Perhaps that was why the professor had chosen it?

Luke grabbed the bars of the gate and smashed his head into them. Ouch. Think. _Think_.

Wait.

Why _were_ there so many locks? If the professor had meant for him to go through the gate, why were there so many chains? Even if he unlocked _one_, the other would still be there…

But…what if that was the puzzle? What if there was one lock that would release them all? Perhaps it was a loop puzzle—not a number riddle.

Luke ran his hands over each chain carefully, scanning for a hint pointing towards the lock that would set the gates free. It wasn't twenty…or nineteen…or four… There were so many locks, it would be difficult to count them all like this. Perhaps if he catalogued them…?

Luke reached into his messenger bag, pulling out his old journal and pen. He smiled with fondness at the faded blue-grey cover. He undid the brass strap and carefully opened the cover.

This was what he had been missing.

Before turning to the puzzle at hand, he flipped through his old notes, laughing at his childish scribbles. Finally, he came to a blank page. He uncapped the fancy black pen and began to painstakingly draw out the chains in simpler loops. Then, he drew in the locks. He started rotating and unravelling the loops in his mind, one after another. Once in a while, he made a mistake and had to begin again.

Eventually, Luke sat down on the cold cobblestones and pulled out his shoelaces. Perhaps a visual he could manipulate would be more helpful.

"Four!" Luke coughed hoarsely at last. "It's number four!"

He stood up amongst the ruins of his work: woven grass chains, snapped shoelaces, scraps of paper, ink blotches of a broken pen…

But he had succeeded. Tentatively, Luke lifted the silver key to the padlock engraved with a curly "_4_". He grit his teeth to keep from trembling in anticipation. He only had one chance. Perhaps…perhaps a few more calculations would be beneficial…

No. Over-thinking things had many times been his downfall.

It was time to let luck and skill take over.

Luke slid the key into place and turned it. _Click. Crunch!_ The key broke off in his hand, but not before the lock sprang open. Luke carefully unwound the chains and locks as his self-made instructions dictated. One by one, the chains fell to the ground, their purpose served.

The gate swung open softly on well-oiled hinges. Luke walked swiftly into the courtyard, looking around in bewilderment. Where was he supposed to go now?

His eye caught on a white corner protruding from a mail slot. He hurried over, anxiously tearing the letter open and looking at his next instructions.

_Hello, Luke!_

_ Every day, I become prouder of you. You're turning into quite the gentleman, aren't you?_

_ I must admit, I have another present for you. I know it's unusual for me to present you with so many things so quickly, but… Consider it an old man's folly. My age drives me to spoil you!_

_ Well. Spoil me, really. A young man like yourself probably doesn't care for trinkets of the past as much as I do… So forgive me for this constant self-indulgence. This little puzzle game of ours has given me a new joy in life—no, it has helped me rediscovered a past joy. I hope you feel the same. Do you miss our adventures?_

_ I do. Perhaps we will be able to go on another sometimes soon._

_ Until then, however, I will continue with this game. A true gentleman leaves no puzzle unsolved, nor game unfinished!_

_ But I digress—back to your gift. I'm afraid you'll have to do some more work for this one, my boy. Go to the attached address and solve the puzzle I have set for you. If all goes well, take the letter with you to me and redeem your prize. I would have left it at the address, of course, but as I never know when you'll solve these…I'm afraid it may expire before you get there. Instead, I have left you a coupon. Make sure you solve it soon! It may not be as favourable in the winter…_

_ Cordially,_

_Hershel Layton_

Luke stared at the paper, feeling a blush rise in his cheeks. Why…why was the professor spoiling him?

And _why did he think he was spoiling himself_?

Luke wanted nothing more than to go directly to the next address, but as he started to run, shoes flying off into the distant horizon, he realized he would have to wait.

He needed new shoelaces.


	6. Chapter 6

**Luke Triton and the Enigmatic Puzzle – Part 6 –**

Luke surveyed the puzzle set before him carefully. Sure, it was a normal scale problem…but how was he supposed to get the letter from it? The note was clear enough, yet…

_Puzzle No. 413_

_You have three types of stones, each a different weight._

_If you have three black stones, the scale will stay balanced with two white ones._

_If you have two white and one red, the scale will stay balanced with three red and two black._

_If you have two red, two black and a white, the scale will stay balanced with four red, a black and a white._

_Place the number amount of each stone in the slot provided._

Luke held the small case of tiles in his hands, staring at the hefty metal block before him. There were hinges on one side of the box, definitely indicating that the block was, in fact, a box… But there was no handle. How was Luke to open it?

He looked at the slots. There was a small slot for each tile to be entered beside each letter: B, R, W.

The puzzle seemed simple enough; black was worth two stones, red was worth one stone, white was worth three stones. Luke entered the amounts, avoiding the tiles that read _½_ and _0.0679_. But where is the handle? How was he to open it?

Luke pressed the tiles down harder, frustrated. "Open!"

_Snap._  
Luke jumped in surprise. The raised numbers on the squares had snapped off in his hands. "Did I…did I _break it_?" Luke gasped, horrified. He stared at the numbers in his hands. "How…why…_why didn't the professor warn me_?"

Luke slapped his cheeks a few times, trying to clear his mind. "No. A true gentleman always keeps a cool head. If the numbers came off, it was because they were _meant to_." He ran his fingertips over the surfaces of the spindly numbers. What could this be?

Another puzzle.

Of course the first was too easy. There must have been a reason. But why was there a first puzzle at all? All he figured out was a sequence of…numbers.

A sequence of numbers.

Two, one, three.

He turned the two, peering at the bottom edge. There was a small hole. He held up the one, carefully inserting the metal. _Click._ It stuck. He now had what appeared to be a two standing on a line. Now for the three… Turning the three on the side, he found another small hole in the top. _Click_. Now he had…a stack of numbers.

But what was he _supposed to do with it?_

Luke returned to the original metal box. There had to be another clue here, somewhere. Did the letters come off, too? Was he supposed to build some sort of string of characters and then…_what_ exactly? Make a postal code out of them?

He felt a thin indent in the second letter. Another hole? This one was larger—Luke wondered how he had missed it before. Though, the letters _were_ heavily outlined…depth could have been hidden in natural shadows…

Perhaps…perhaps he was holding a key. That would make the R a keyhole.

With shaking hands, Luke tested his theory. Overcoming his fear that the key would break like the key in the previous puzzle, Luke twisted it. _Click-thunk_.

Unlocked at last! Luke leaned on the box, pulling at the key. Pulling at the key. Pulling at the key.

_The key was stuck._

Luke bit back a most ungentlemanly swear. _He had failed._ He had failed the puzzle. He had failed himself.

_He had failed the professor._

Luke bit his lip, worried. What if the professor was waiting for him? Would he be left waiting forever, thinking his protégé would come through? Never knowing that he had failed…?

What if Luke _told_ him? The professor wouldn't be left in hope, no…but the look of disappointment wasn't something he was particularly looking forward to.

Luke gave another half-hearted tug at the key. To his heart-stopping surprise, the vault swung open to reveal a single envelope.

Luke nearly burst into tears. Here he had been so convinced he was _wrong_, when it had been his own stupidity that kept him from the solution. The key wasn't just a _key_. It was the handle. Luke made a mental note: don't lean on puzzles.

Finally, Luke lifted the letter into his hands. He tore it open greedily, desiring to finally sate his curiosity.

_Hello, Luke!_

_ Solved another puzzle, I see. Congratulations! You really are my number one apprentice!_

_ I'm sure you're excited, so I'll be brief. Bring the attached coupon to my office the next time I'm in. Don't lose it, my boy!_

_ Cordially,_

_Hershel Layton_

Luke turned his attention to the attached coupon. Hands printed on coloured paper were the words _Redeemnable for one apprentice-only prize._ Luke smiled, carefully placing the slip in his breast pocket. He glanced at his watch, marking the time with shock. The last bus was about to arrive! Without another thought, he sprinted down the street to catch the brightly painted transport.

"P-professor," Luke panted, banging on the office door with an open fist. He had woken up late that day, only pausing to pull on yesterday's blazer over his clothes before darting to class. Finally, his lectures were over—and none too soon. He had been fidgeting in anticipation all morning.

"Goodness." The professor pulled open the door, a look of surprise flashing across his feature briefly. "Come in, my boy. Did you run here?" Still trying to catch his breath, Luke noted the tiniest hint of a smile on the professor's lips.

"S-sorry," Luke said, quickly brushing off his clothes and adjusting his lopsided hat. "I…I didn't want to make you wait."

The professor chuckled. "Well, then. I assume you've completed my puzzle…?"

"Y-yes!" Luke replied proudly. "I have the coupon right he—" He paused, his hand still in his pocket. "How…how odd. I…I seem to have misplaced it." He searched his pocket once more, again finding nothing. Then he searched his other pockets. And his bag. He even turned his hat inside out a few times just to be sure.

"Well…?" The professor asked, regarding him with almost fearful interest.

"I…I lost it, professor," Luke mumbled. "It…it must have fallen out of my pocket when I ran for the bus…."

The professor frowned slightly. "A true gentleman never lies, Luke."


	7. Chapter 7

**Luke Triton and the Enigmatic Puzzle – Part 7 –**

Luke stood in the office, unsure of what to do. He shook his head meaningfully, trying to convey that he really _had_ solved the puzzle.

"I'm a little bit disappointed," the professor said at length. "I'm glad you were excited…but it's not good to lie, Luke. I thought I had taught you that."

"No!" Luke exclaimed. "I—I really did solve it! The first puzzle unlocked a key, and there was a keyhole, and it turned…it turned into a handle… I really _did_ solve it!"

The professor tapped his lip thoughtfully. "Hm. Perhaps if you were to have _noticed_ something about the ticket, I could just accept the absence…"

"Notice something?" Luke replied, confused.

"It certainly sounds like you solved my puzzle," the professor said. "Which is impressive. However, I made sure to add something to the coupon in the event that something like this were to occur."

"Added…something?" Luke repeated. "What did you add?"

"I can't tell you that, my boy," the professor replied. "It's a puzzle."

"A puzzle?"

"Think of it as a memory game. What do you remember about the coupon?"

"Er…it was red, with a yellow outline. The words were in your handwriting, all curly and black… It said… Something about number one apprentice… Oh! And 'redeemable' was in it, too. Except…"

"Except?" The corners of the professor's mouth twitched. "Go on."

"Well, er… I think you made the 'm' a little bit too curly or something, because it ended up having another loop… So I read it as 'redeem_n_able'…"

The professor smiled at last. "Very good. I added that last arch on purpose, of course, knowing that you'd notice. That was all I needed to know, my boy." He patted Luke on the head affectionately. "In all honesty, I actually did believe you had completed the puzzle—I just wanted to be sure. How could you not beat it? You're my number one apprentice, after all."

Luke blushed. "T-thank you, professor."

"Luke, I believe you've long reached the age you can call me 'Hershel', you know. You don't have to keep calling me 'professor'."

"N-no, I couldn't do that," Luke protested. "You…well, you still _are_ my professor. It would be weird for only me to be calling you H—by your first name, wouldn't it?"

Layton blinked. "Would it? I have lots of students calling me Hershel. I know several of my colleagues prefer to be called by name, too."

Luke suddenly felt jealous of his classmates. They had been calling the professor Hershel? Since _when_? Why hadn't _he_ caught on?

"Now, I suppose you're already rather curious…" The professor was speaking again, bringing Luke's attention back to the man before him. "But would you like a cup of tea? I got a new set recently, and I made sure to stock up on Oasis Berry ingredients…"

"O-oh! Yes, thank you, professor," Luke replied quickly. "Would you like me to—"

"No, no, I can handle that much, at least. I'm not _quite_ that old. Sit down, my boy." The professor turned and lifted the hefty silver tea set from the counter. Luke spotted _Sexy Teacup Ladies_ wedged between textbooks on the nearby bookshelf. He wondered if it was just his imagination, or…was that a _different_ issue?

"Luke?" The professor was watching him. "Would you like sugar?"

"Er…" Luke began.

"Right, how could I forget? Two lumps, as per usual." The professor dropped a couple cubes into the cup and held it out for Luke.

Unable to bring himself to tell his professor that his tastes _had_ matured somewhat over the years to the point he felt sugar in tea just made it sickly, he accepted. Perhaps if he drank it slow enough, he would run out of time in the office and be able to leave the last granule rich portion behind.

"Now…" The professor sat across from his apprentice, stirring his tea thoughtfully. He cleared his throat. "To start, I can imagine this won't be very exciting for you. Like I said in the letter, perhaps I'm the only one enjoying the nostalgia, but—"

"No!" Luke interrupted. "I mean…it's fun. I'm having fun."

Layton smiled, then continued. "_But_ I'm afraid I'm going to keep at it." He slipped his hand into his suit pocket and withdrew two tickets. "I was wondering if you'd like to accompany me to the amusement park next weekend."

"The…the amusement park?" Luke choked, managing to keep himself from spitting out overly sweetened tea.

"Yes." Layton seemed unable to look his student straight in the eyes. "You see, I was remembering our trip to St. Mystere, and how you wanted to ride the Ferris wheel… But, well, couldn't."

"Seeing as how it attacked us," Luke agreed. "Yes, I remember that."

"Well, I know it's too late, but… They say all work and no play makes young Luke a dull boy." Layton tipped his hat. "However, I understand completely if you don't want to go."

"I want to go," Luke said bluntly. "I haven't been to a park in years!"

"Wonderful!" the professor replied, sounding almost relieved.

Luke glanced at his watch. "Ah—but I should finish my essay first, then."

"Right you are, my boy," the professor said with a nod. "A true gentleman always does his homework."

Luke sprung up, grateful to discard the tea but sad to leave the professor's company. "W-well, I'll see you this weekend," he said as he hurried to the door. "Do you want me to—"

"I believe it would be best that _I_ held on to the tickets for you," the professor said, the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.

"Yes. Yes, you're probably right about that."


	8. Chapter 8

**Luke Triton and the Enigmatic Puzzle – Part 7 –**

By the time the weekend had come around, Luke had finished his coursework for the next month. It had meant sacrificing sleep and food, but it meant he was _thoroughly prepared_ for every upcoming puzzle game the professor set for him.

And so it came to be that Luke was standing in front of the park two hours before the appointed date. His head was filled with a blank humming sound, mostly from the lack of sleep. He swayed back and forth aimlessly, achieving strange looks from passing strangers. It didn't matter to him, really—he was going to spend an entire day with his professor. The day at the park they had missed in St. Mystere.

"Luke, my boy?"

Luke raised his head and smiled. "Professor!"

"You look rather pale. Are you quite alright?" The professor raised the brim of his hat to look down at his apprentice.

"Y-yes," Luke replied. "Right as rain, professor!"

"If you say so," the professor replied sceptically, noting the dark bags under his eyes. "Well, let's head in, shall we?"

Once inside, they decided to examine the park map. A confusing blur of loops and colours, it rather reminded Luke of a puzzle. A very bad puzzle. A puzzle that sort of wove in and out of his increasingly blurry vision—

"Luke, where would you like to go first? A roller coaster, perhaps?"

"F-food, if you don't mind," Luke replied, feeling that spiking his blood sugar may be the antidote he needed. "I haven't had time to eat much recently, so—"

"That's no good." The professor frowned at him. "You'll fall ill if you do that. You can't possibly learn on a perpetually empty stomach."

"Yes, professor," Luke accepted. "It was just for a short while. It's okay."

"Hm." The professor made an indignant sound, but didn't scold him. "Well, eat well now, then. It won't make up for the damage, but it should bring up your stamina."

"Yes, professor."

"Something with iron. You're looking rather…anaemic."

"Yes, professor."

The two found a small overpriced restaurant just out of the way and sat to eat. Luke, torn between ordering enough food to sustain himself (roughly half the menu) and his unwillingness to waste the professor's money, deliberated for a while about what to get. Eventually, his shaking grew bad enough that he decided survival was top priority. The two ordered from a rather buxom waitress, then fell into a comfortable silence.

"How have your classes been?" Layton asked at length, once their food had arrived.

"Good, professor," Luke said, stifling a yawn and shovelling food into his mouth simultaneously. "Professor Wells is rather out there with his theories, though."

Layton chuckled. "I would say so. He spends his nights scanning the skies for UFOs."

"That's…nearly a romantic hobby, I suppose," Luke said. "I mean, if you think of it as stargazing…"

"I suppose so," the professor conceded. "How about your other classes?"

"They're pretty easy, I suppose," Luke replied.

"That's my boy." The professor smiled.

"Your class is by far the best, though," Luke added. "Your lectures are far more interesting."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Layton laughed. "Though, I suppose it won't make much of a difference. You're still my top student."

"Yes, professor." Luke blushed.

Layton misunderstood. "Ah, you're finally getting colour back in your cheeks. Feeling a little better, are we?"

"Yes, professor." Luke nodded.

"Shall we take our tour of the park now?" Layton inquired, standing. He tossed a couple hundred picarats on the table to pay the bill, adjusting his hat. Luke rose, pulling on his bag.

"Sounds good to me," Luke replied.

From the restaurant, they decided to ride the spinning teacups. Holding tightly to their hats, they whizzed round the appointed ring, occasionally becoming so dizzy the world would take several minutes to become clear again.

Next, they rode the bumper cars. The professor was remarkably bad at driving his, often ending up jammed in a corner.

"That was nothing like the Laytonmobile," he said breathlessly as the exited. "But you were quite proficient, my boy." Luke bit back a remark about how the professor's hat may have added some extra wind resistance while driving.

"I'm sure it just take practice," Luke said at length.

"How about we go to the haunted house? It seems like a popular attraction," Layton suggested.

Luke's throat went dry. Unwilling to show his fear, he replied, "Sure thing." Layton chuckled quietly as they proceeded to the haunted house.

The foyer wasn't all too frightening. The lighting was dim, but it existed. The faux cobwebs were laden with dust and plastic spiders, but none of it seemed real enough to bother Luke.

"Scared?" the professor asked.

"A-a true gentleman is never scared," Luke replied with a straight face.

"You're looking a little pale again," the professor joked.

"I—I am not," Luke protested as they ascended the sweeping staircase. "I'm—ah!" He stepped back, knocking into the professor's chest.

"Oof—what is it?" The professor looked through the door they had come to. A shadowy figure was floating in and out of various walls and objects. "Don't worry. It's an optical illusion, created with mirrors and cut outs."

"I-if you say so, professor," Luke replied, still inching away.

They continued through the rest of the house, but Luke was never brave enough to stand more than a foot away from the professor. Frequently, he would hide behind Layton's jacket, peering out around his arm. Finally, to Luke's relief, they exited.

"Hm…it's getting a bit late," the professor said, checking his watch. The sun had already set, and the park was ablaze with colourful lights.

"It's getting to look a bit like Folsense," Luke remarked.

"Indeed," Layton agreed. "Perhaps we should go on one last ride. How about the Ferris wheel?"

"Wonderful!" Luke replied, feeling like his younger self again. Spending time with the professor often made him feel more youthful—the weight of all his burdens always seemed to lift.

They boarded a cart and were immediately lifted into the air. The wheel's pace was slow, but it allowed for a good view of the park.

"I wonder if this is what St. Mystere would have looked like," Luke wondered aloud, face pressed against the window pane.

"Quite possibly," the professor replied. The inside of the compartment was still and quite, save for the soft, rhythmic clanking of the metalwork.

"It's been pretty cold today," Luke remarked. "I suppose it is pretty seasonal…"

"Cold?" Layton leaned on the trolley wall. "Are you feeling quite well? It's been quite temperate today."

"Hm? Yes, I am. Just a little cold."

"Forgive me," Layton said, reaching over and pressing his hand to Luke's forehead. "As I expected. You're running a bit of a fever. Have you been pushing yourself too hard?"

"Mm…I just haven't slept well recently. That's all it is, really," Luke responded.

"You've admitted to me that you haven't been eating or sleeping, and now you're running a temperature," Layton protested. "You aren't taking care of yourself."

"It—it was just a busy week. I'll be okay soon," Luke said, closing his eyes and leaning on the professor's shoulder. "It's fine... I'll sleep when I get home."

"Luke?" The professor cleared his throat. "Er…my boy? Luke?"

Silence.

"Luke…?"


	9. Chapter 9

**Luke Triton and the Enigmatic Puzzle – Part 8 –**

When Luke's eyes finally fluttered open, it took him several moments to decipher where he was. Indeed, it definitely was _not_ where he remembered last being—that would have been the Ferris wheel. But he was not _in_ a Ferris wheel, as far as he could tell.

But…this wasn't his dorm room, either. Where was he?

The powder blue walls tugged at the corners of his memory, but he was too far in a state of delirium to understand. Blue walls. Blue. He had always liked that colour, hadn't he? He was powder blue, Flora was creamy orange, the professor a chocolate brown…

The professor! What had happened to the professor? Where was he? What had happened?

Luke groaned. His head hurt. His body ached. He felt lost and disoriented.

"Professor! Professor, come quick!"

Luke tried to locate the source of the noise, but the scene drifted in and out of his blurry vision. "Wuh…?"

"Professor!" The voice was familiar.

_Flora_? Why was _Flora_ here? It hurt to think.

"Professor Layton!"

The sound of pattering footsteps, followed by heavier footfalls.

"Luke?" That was certainly the professor's voice. But where—

Was he at _home_? His old home? His old room? Is that why the walls looked so…

"Luke!"

Luke's breath was knocked out of him as the professor threw his arms around his neck. "P-professor?" Luke choked.

"You had me worried, my boy!" the professor said, teeth gritted. "If you weren't feeling well, you should have said so! A true gentleman properly gauges his health!"

"I'm fine, professor, just a little dizzy," Luke replied as Layton stood up and pulled an undersized wooden chair over.

"I should say not!" Layton snapped. "Do you know how long you were out? It took everything I had just to get you home, and then I wasn't sure whether to wait or call the hospital or—"

"Professor, calm down," Flora said, putting a dainty hand on his shoulder. "He's not in a state to be taking all this in right now."

"I know," the professor said with a sigh. "I just get so…_flustered_ when you two get sick."

Flora giggled. "Well, it's alright now, professor. He seems to be getting better."

"How can you tell? He still—"

"'Woman's intuition'," Flora recited. "Also, he is awake now." She tapped the brim of his hat. "Every puzzle has an answer."

Luke laughed at the line. The world spun. He decided to not laugh for a while.

"But—" the professor began.

"A little medicine and he'll be fine," Flora assured. "Right, Luke?"

"What?" Luke replied. He could suddenly _see the air_, and the spiralling patterns it made were rather distracting him.

"Exactly. Go sleep, professor. You have bags under your eyes. A _true gentleman _doesn't allow himself to have tired eyes in the presence of a lady," Flora scolded.

"Y-yes…quite so, my dear," Layton said, rising. He hesitantly allowed himself leave.

"Don't worry about the professor, Luke," Flora said, automatically sitting in the professor's seat. "He's just a bit paranoid. You should see him when you aren't around, he gets all flustered and frets that you'll get hurt… This must have come as a shock to him." She absently plucked an apple from a basket on the nightstand and began peeling it with a small paring knife.

"He's…worried?" Luke asked, breathing steadily. Perhaps if he _focused just so_, the room would stay still for a little while. "About me?"

"Ever since you moved out!" Flora shook her head. "He's worried that something will happen to his 'number one apprentice'. But I suppose that's normal…? Probably?"

"But…he has you, Flora," Luke said. "Why would he—"

Flora snorted, tidily stacking the peels. "One person can never take the place of another, Luke. You couldn't take my place, and I could _definitely_ never take yours."

"But—"

"You've been with him longer. You should know this," Flora said, neatly cutting the now spotless apple into thin slices. "We're very different people to him. You're his sidekick. I'm the one you forget in barns."

Luke hesitated. "Er…I'm really sorry about leaving you all those times, Flora…"

"It's fine," she replied. "I got used to it. I found other things to do. _Ways to get back at you_."

"You—you _what_?" Luke stared at her in horror.

"I'm joking, I'm joking," Flora giggled. "I certainly never hid toads in your drawers, or spiders in your bed or anything. I also definitely didn't take out all of the professor's records and put them in different sleeves while you two were off adventuring without me."

"Flora…could it be that you…"

"I said I didn't do any of those things, didn't I?" she reinforced sweetly. "Here, have an apple slice."

"Um, no thanks, I'm a bit—"

"_I said 'have an apple slice'_," Flora repeated.

"Er, thank you…" Luke clumsily picked one up and shoved it in his mouth. Though it was a normal apple, it felt like he was chewing sand. Perhaps he should hold off food for a while.

"I'll make you some soup," Flora said, standing. "If you feel up to it, eat the rest of the fruit. The professor collected a pretty impressive variety if you don't want any more apple."

"T-thanks," Luke said, slightly worried that Flora would do something questionable to the soup. Though, the possibility existed that a good portion of the conversation had taken place only in his mind. The shadow apparitions he was now experiencing seemed to confirm this.

Luke rolled over in bed as Flora left, wondering quietly to himself if sleep was an effective weapon against delirious hallucinations, or if he was actually going insane.

"This is Folsense all over again…"


	10. Chapter 10

**Luke Triton and the Enigmatic Puzzle – Part 10 –**

_"Profesh…Pro…Laylay, what are you doing?" Luke stood beside the professor, looking up at the table. The professor glanced down at the small boy, smiling. He lifted him up and deposited him on his lap._

_ "I'm doing a puzzle, m'boy," Layton said._

_ "What's a puzzle?" Luke asked, looking at the small puzzle parts before him._

_ "It's a sort of game," Layton replied. "For this puzzle, we have to put the pieces together to make a specific shape."_

_ "I like games," Luke said._

_ "Do you want to give it a try?"_

_ "Okay." Luke sat happily for a few minutes, kicking his legs cheerfully (only sometimes hitting the professor's calf by accident) and picking up the various pieces. He would examine each one closely, then set it back at the desk._

_ "Having trouble?" Layton asked, watching the child work. "I can help yo—"_

_ "No!" Luke shouted. He looked up at the professor again, blue eyes wide. "Sorry, proffsh…Laylay. What shape?"_

_ "Oh," Layton flushed a bit, embarrassed. He had not told Luke the key part of the puzzle. "You're trying to make a sort of 3D star. It's a bit difficult, so don't feel bad if—"_

_ "Done." Luke slid the final piece in place with a _click!_ The professor stared. "Did I win?"_

_ The professor smiled. "Yes. You won."_

Luke gasped, waking abruptly in a pool of cold sweat. He trembled. He was hot. He was cold. He wanted to puke…

"Luke?"

"Laylay?" Luke asked without thinking.

"I—what?" The professor suppressed a laugh. "You haven't called me that in _years_. I had almost forgotten."

Luke blushed profusely. "I—no, I was—I just had a dream."

"Oh?" The professor leaned back in his chair.

"I…it wasn't that interesting or anything, it was just the first time I solved a puzzle," Luke replied, feeling oddly embarrassed.

"I remember that," the professor replied calmly. "You gave me quite the surprise, my boy. It was then that I realized the sheer potential you had, you know."

"R-really?" Luke was glad that it was dark. The professor wouldn't be able to see him clearly…wouldn't be able to see how happy that remark made him.

"Are you feeling any better?" The professor reached out a hand, apparently trying to approximate his distance from Luke's face. Eventually, he managed to brush Luke's face, moving his hand to his forehead. "Hm. You're still rather warm. And soaked! I shall fetch you some dry clothes immediately." The professor rose. "And perhaps some water-I daresay you've lost a lot. Damn this fever."

Luke watched the professor's back as he walked away, face still burning from where Layton had touched him. The dream had made him recall his feelings from when he was a child. He had always thought the professor was so _tall_. Now he was nearly the same height.

He smiled to himself. Things change.

The professor returned shortly. "Here." He offered Luke the change of clothes, who took it gratefully. "Do you…er…do you need help?" he asked somewhat awkwardly.

"N-no!" Luke replied quickly. "I'm, er, I'm fine, professor, really, don't worry." The light from the hall made him notice the bags under the professor's eyes. "You…you should go to sleep."

"A true gentleman puts the needs of others before his own," Layton replied.

"You have a class tomorrow. You need rest." Luke stretched over and gave the professor a little push. "I'll—I'll be fine. Really."

Layton regarded his apprentice carefully. "I suppose you are correct in saying so," he said at length. "Good night, Luke." He patted Luke's head once, then left.

Luke sighed, flustered. He stood, quickly changing pajamas. It felt much better to be dry again. The button-up shirt, however, was proving to be a problem. Luke cursed his clumsiness. Every button was like a puzzle he needed to solve. Luke had gotten halfway up the shirt before he realized he was off by at least one button. Throwing himself back on his pillows, he surrendered. A true gentleman can be gentlemanly without a gentlemanish appearance.

Or something. He was tired.

With that confusing thought still in his head, he rolled over and went back to sleep.

_ "Luke, come take a look at this." The professor beckoned Luke to the table, lifting him up as usual. "I brought home another puzzle today."_

_ "What is it, professor?" Luke had finally learned how to pronounce the word, though it made Layton feel a little lonely._

_ "It's a colour puzzle. Can you figure it out from the clues?" Layton proceeded to read the clue aloud, then watched as the child deliberated carefully on each one. Luke then proceeded to lay each colour into the correct arrangement. "Wonderful!"_

_ "Bring me a harder one tomorrow, okay?" Luke requested._

_ "Of course, my boy." Layton ruffled his hair._

_ "Hey, professor?" Luke began._

_ "Yes?"_

_ "Um, you know how it's my birthday coming up and everything…" Luke started._

_ "What would you like, my boy? A new game? A bicycle?" the professor suggested._

_ "I…I would like a hat, actually." Luke quickly looked away._

_ "A hat?" the professor repeated._

_ "Y-yes." Luke blushed. "You said that a true gentleman always wears a hat, right?"_

_ The professor laughed. "I did, indeed. What sort of hat would you like?"_

_ "A…a blue one."_

_ The professor nodded, chuckling. He had been silly to think Luke would know the names of different sorts of hats. "Alright. I'll buy you the best blue hat I can find."_

_ "Yay!" Luke cheered._

_ Suddenly, it was Luke's birthday party. He was celebrating with the professor. Luke didn't have many friends his age—he was far too shy. Other children didn't like puzzles. They didn't like logic. The professor did, though. He only needed the professor, really._

_ "Happy birthday," Layton said, presenting Luke with a large blue box. Excited, Luke tore into it. In the box was a powder blue cap. Luke lifted it in awe, his eyes wide. "If it's not the sort of hat you want, we can always—"_

_ "I love it!" Luke squealed, quickly jamming it on to his head. "It's wonderful!" He grinned toothily up at the professor, who smiled back. "How do I look?"_

_ "Like a true gentleman," Layton replied. Luke giggled, then ran upstairs to look in the mirror. He stood there for quite some time, admiring his hat from every angle. Luke like the way he looked in that hat. It was a good hat. It was a hat chosen by the _professor.

_ Luke was at school. A bully had taken his hat. He had only had it a short time. It wasn't fair! Luke tried to get it back, but he was pushed down. And again. And again. He was covered in mud. He hurt._

_ Luke came home hatless. He wanted to cry. True gentleman never cry, though, so he didn't. He still wanted to._

_ He walked into the professor accidentally in the hall._

_ "Luke!" The professor knelt beside him, concerned. He examined the scrapes and bruises. He took Luke to the bathroom and cleaned him up. Luke still wanted to cry._

_ "I—I'm sorry, professor," Luke sobbed. He had tried to stifle his tears, but failed. "The…the hat…"_

_ "What happened?" Layton asked. "Did someone do this?"_

_ Luke explained what happened. The professor listened. The professor _always_ listened to him, even though he was just a little boy. He was always there._

_ "I see." The professor frowned, then ruffled Luke's hair as he stood. "It's okay. I'll take care of this, my boy."_

_ "N-no!" Luke protested. "If you—if you do something, they might…it might get even worse, professor!"_

_ The professor paused in thought. "I see. I hadn't thought of that." He remained quiet for a few minutes. "I'll teach you something, then. But you must only use this when you _have to_, understand?" Luke understood. "A true gentleman can stand up to for what is right, even if he must do something wrong."_

_ Luke learned. He returned to school. He got his hat back. The bullies were scared of him now. Luke remained cordial to them. He didn't want to be a bully. He wanted everyone to get along._

_ St. Mystere. He saw Flora. He saw her often. The professor didn't see her. Was she an illusion? No, she wasn't. Flora came to live with them._

_ Folsense. Anton. So much gas. Confusion. All the colours. Where am I?_

As the dreams became more and more convoluted, Luke fell deeper into his stupor. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wanted to wake up.


	11. Chapter 11

**Luke Triton and the Enigmatic Puzzle – Part 10 –**

By the next afternoon, Luke's fever had broken and he was feeling much better. Though still rather afflicted by bouts of shaking, he could now get up and walk around the house. Flora would check on him every once and a while, scolding him for moving so much and smothering him in blankets.

"If you get sick again, don't blame me!" she'd squeak.

Now that he felt better, he didn't really pay attention to her threats. He wanted go through the house, top to bottom. He wanted to see everything before the inevitable return to residence. He liked the old house. He missed it. So he decided to commit everything to memory.

Luke was halfway through organizing a dusty cabinet when the professor arrived home. Luke heard a muffled conversation in the landing downstairs, after which came rapid footsteps. The door was thrown open.

"Luke!" the professor exclaimed, framed by the doorway. Luke put the ornate box he had been holding to the side.

"Good—good afternoon, professor," Luke said. "How was—" The rest of the sentence was lost in the professor's embrace.

"You had me worried, my boy," the professor said. "I thought I was going to lose you."

"It was—it was just a cold or something," Luke replied, managing to get his words around the professor's arm. "It's happened before. Probably just a bug or something. Really, you didn't need to be so conc-"

"I know," the professor said, defeated. "But you've been away so long… and when we finally _do_ get to spend a day together, you get sick. I feel as though it's my fault!"

"I'll…I'll make it up to you, professor," Luke said awkwardly, unsure whether he was allowed to enjoy the embrace or not.

"Get healthier, first." Layton finally released him, holding on to his apprentice's shoulders briefly. "What would I do if I lost my number one apprentice?"

Luke chuckled weakly. "Yes, sir."

Unsure of what to do now, Layton left the room again. Luke wondered if he, too, was feeling embarrassed.

Turning back to the cabinet, Luke came across something that made him smile. A small, three dimensional star puzzle. He lifted it up, examining it. Had the professor really kept such a cheap plastic toy for so long? He would have forgotten it completely, had it not been for that dream.

"It's because he likes you."

Luke jumped, dropping the puzzle. "F-Flora!"

Flora was sitting on the couch behind him. When had she entered the room? She seemed to have become quite adept at creeping up on him. "I had to. You two would never have let me come on adventures if I hadn't been able to sneak on to trains and planes and other transportation vehicles _you conveniently forgot to take me on_."

"M-mind reader?" Luke asked.

"No. It's written all over your face," she replied. "Really, you two leave me out of everything… I'd be hurt if I wasn't so _used to it_." She pouted.

"S-sorry, Flora," Luke replied. He wasn't sure if he'd ever get over the guilt he felt. In his defense, it was usually the professor that insisted on leaving her behind. Though, he was probably also at fault…somehow.

"Anyway, you were wondering why he kept that, right?" She came over to him, picking up the trinket. "It must be because he likes you, right? Why else would someone keep something like this?" She turned it over in her fingers. "You're really important to him."

"You…you're important to him, too, Flora," Luke replied.

"Not as important as you." She put the bauble back in the cabinet. "But that's probably obvious. It's not like I've been with him as long as you. You must be like a son to him by now."

Luke smiled sadly. "Yes, probably."

Flora regarded him curiously. "So you think of him like _that_…?"

"I what? What?" Luke whirled around in surprise. "What do you—what? What? _What_?"

She giggled. "The way you're getting flustered seems to prove it."

"I—no!"

"Don't worry, I'll support you." Flora waved her hand dismissively. "I sort of figured it out a long time ago. Besides, it's not like I could ever get in your way. Sometimes I don't think he even notices me half the time." She shook her head. "But you know, it's kind of creepy, don't you think? It's like a weird Electra complex…"

"No! It's not like that at all!" Luke protested.

"Really? Because it sounds like that to me…"

"No! I like the professor, but it's not like that." Luke tried desperately to explain, but nothing seemed to make sense.

Flora patted his head comfortingly. "It's okay."

"I don't…I don't think of him as my father," Luke said at length. "I…I don't know if I ever did, really. For some reason, I was always able to completely differentiate my father and the professor… I've probably always liked the professor…_as_ the professor."

"If you say so," Flora replied sceptically. "But even if that's true, how do you know if he doesn't think of you as a son?"

"He…probably does," Luke replied. "I'm not going to lie to myself."

Flora sighed. "Well, there's always hope, I suppose."

"I'm…I'm okay with one-sided love," Luke said. "I don't mind it anymore."

"With an attitude like that, you'll never get anywhere," Flora cautioned. "How about giving him something for Valentine's?"

Luke gulped. He had completely forgotten! "Er…"

"Listen," said Flora. "You should give him something like…"

Half an hour later, Luke had made up his mind. He knew what he would give the professor.

He just hoped the professor appreciated circular structure as much as he thought.


	12. Chapter 12

**Luke Triton and the Enigmatic Puzzle – Part 12 –**

Top hats were surprisingly hard to come by in London.

Well, no. That wasn't quite accurate. Top hats weren't uncommon at all, actually. Top hats rivalling the professor's—_that_ was Luke's problem. There were plenty of hats, but none were tall enough to be _right_.

However, Luke didn't begin to worry until the sixth hat shop. He felt like he was trying to figure out a puzzle—a horrible, horrible puzzle. A puzzle with a trick answer. He hated those. Puzzles should be solved with logical mind, not a deceitful one. He shook his head. Focus was key in solving puzzles; he would solve this problem like all the others.

"Excuse me," Luke called shyly to the shop attendant.

She turned, pinning up her long brown locks. "Yessir? How can I help you?"

"I'm looking for a top hat. It's not quite a normal top hat, though. It has to be about yea high." Luke motioned with his hands. "Do you have something like that?"

"Mm," she replied thoughtfully. "I can check the back for you, but I won't promise anything."

"Thank you," Luke said, voice overflowing with gratitude. Perhaps he would finally arrive at his answer.

Minutes later, the girl returned. Her expression was apologetic. "We didn't have anything like that."

"It's okay," Luke said. He felt the bubble of hope bursting in his chest. "I'll try at a different store."

"Sorry again," she said as he turned to go. "Ah! Wait!" She quickly caught his arm. "I just remembered!"

"Hm?" Luke stopped, tipping his cap at her. "Is something the matter?"

"No, but I just thought of something! Wait here!" She darted back into the store room. "Here it is!" She held up a dusty roll of paper.

"I'm afraid that wasn't quite what I had in mind," Luke said.

"Don't be silly," she snapped, spreading the paper out over the desk. "It's obviously not a hat. What it _is_, however, is a _hat pattern._" She ducked behind a table and came back with a large box. "Years back, a woman came by asking for a really tall hat. We kept the pattern for it, in case she wanted to buy a replacement or it somehow came into style."

"Really?" Luke leaned over to look at the patterns. "This—this is perfect!"

"I thought so," she said approvingly. "I just need the measu—"

"These are the exact measurements," Luke interrupted, calculating in his head. "I do believe this is where he got the hat from in the first place."

"Oh? So he needs a new hat, then?" The attendant grinned at him. "He seemed like a nice man. He came in here a few times a couple of years ago. He seemed _really_ set on buying a blue hat. Actually, it was a bit like the one you're wearing."

Luke wasn't surprised. The professor was the sort of man to return to a shop to support an owner he liked. "If I were to commission you to make a new hat, how long would it take?"

"Hm…it depends, really. I'm not the one to make the hats, exactly. I mostly just sell them. I could ask the owner for you, though."

"Please do." Luke nodded and the attendant set off immediately. Relief spread through him; he had solved the puzzle.

She returned after a few minutes, looking cheerful. "Good news! She said she could make it by next Tuesday."

"Wonderful!" Luke exclaimed.

"Is it for a birthday or something?" she asked as she packed the pattern away again, setting it on top of the box.

"Or something." Luke nodded. "Ah…how much will this cost?"

"The owner quoted me about ten hundred to fifteen hundred picarats."

Luke did the math in his head. He had about two thousand picarats, so it would cost him most of his money… But then, he didn't really spend picarats often, anyway, so it should last him long enough. "Great! Can I pay now?"

"Of course. Let's just go through the details, shall we? Then I can give you an exact cost."

Luke began to dictate various instructions to her, describing the hat he wanted to give the professor. The hat had to be dark brown, of course, to match the professor's suit. He corrected the measurements and discussed fabrics. Finally, he paid the girl 1250 picarats and took his leave as she hurried the materials up to the shop owner.

Feeling rather good about himself, Luke decided to return to residence early to see if he could perhaps watch a baseball game in the common room. He had hardly gotten so far as his desk when he heard a knock on the door, however.

"Come in?" Luke called, confused.

His don entered, adjusting his glasses and scowling at the boy. "Where were you?"

"Where was I?" Luke repeated. "I don't understand."

"You were gone for at least a week."

"Is this about a community meeting? I'm really sorry I didn't notify you about that, I was—"

"This isn't about a community meeting."

"Then…then what _is_ it about?" Luke questioned, completely baffled.

"We had a test in archaeology recently, you know."

"O-oh." Luke wanted to add "_so?_", but managed to bite it back. He was a first year; he took history, not archaeology.

"You said you would help me study."

"What?" Luke hadn't expected Paolo's reply.

"Don't lie to me!" Paolo shouted. "I thought—I thought you would—"

"I'm really sorry!" Luke interrupted quickly. "I got really sick for a week. I had to go home. I can help you study now, if you like…" Luke trailed off. The expression on Paolo's face was answer enough. Luke wanted to protest that he was a first year, that even if he _was_ getting a good mark in Paolo's history class, he _still_ hadn't been studying archaeology with him. Luke held his tongue. He didn't want to upset his don more.

Paolo leaned back against the closed door, arms crossed. He seemed unable to meet Luke's gaze. "I…I saw you at the theme park."

Luke choked. "What?"

"I saw you. With the professor." Paolo's tone had become softer, though filled with bitterness.

"O-oh." Luke sat in silence. "He…you know… I lived with him."

"You _what_?"

"He's my guardian," Luke said. "Or something. That's why we went to the amusement park. It was depressing being away from home, so he wanted to cheer me up with a game. The prize was going to the park. That's all it was."

Paolo surveyed him carefully. "Isn't it a conflict of interests?"

"What?"

"Being taught by your guardian."

"The professor would never favour a student." Luke shook his head, laughing. "_Trust_ me on that."

"So you…you know the professor intimately?" Paolo asked.

"What? No!" Luke exclaimed.

"Don't get so defensive. I mean, you know him well."

"I suppose so." Luke sat down. "I lived with him since I was little…"

"Is the professor that old?"

Luke chuckled. "He doesn't seem to age."

"You're right…" Luke caught a glimpse of Paolo's face. He was…blushing?

"I was so worried, when I saw you two together… I thought…"

Luke felt a wave of anxiety wash over him. Paolo was in love with the professor? There was no way this could end well. He quietly slipped the receipt for the professor's hat into his sleeve.

"I guess I should have known." Paolo straightened up. "You've never even called him Hershel, after all. There's obviously nothing going on between you two. I was fretting over nothing." He adjusted his glasses, then paused. "I—I'm only saying this because it's unethical for a professor to date a student! Don't get me wrong!"

"Of course," Luke replied, knowing full well Paolo's intentions.

"Yes. Well. I…I have to get back to studying." Paolo nodded once at Luke, then quickly scurried out the door.

Luke suddenly realized that he didn't feel much like watching baseball anymore.


	13. Chapter 13

**Luke Triton and the Enigmatic Puzzle – Part 13 –**

Luke had never liked the sound of a ringing phone. It was irrational, sure, but he didn't like how it was so _insistent_, so _demanding._ The dormitory had public phones for use, of course, as it would be far too expensive to install phones to each room. He hated communal phones as much as he hated the whining sound they made. There was no privacy here, and it frustrated him to no end. This time, however, was different.

"Hello?" Luke asked, absentmindedly pulling a stray thread from his cuff.

"Hello again!"

Luke paused—he didn't recognize the voice. "Hello?"

"Hello!"

"…hello?"

"Hello."

The awkward silence that followed struck Luke as wholly unnecessary. "Um…"

"Right! Your hat is ready to be picked up."

"It's—it's finished?"

"Yessir!"

"I'll be right there!" Without a word of goodbye, Luke hung up the phone. He dashed back to his room to grab his keys, locked the door and returned to the hallway.

"Going somewhere?"

Luke jumped, spinning to face his don. "O-oh! Hello, Paolo…"

Paolo adjusted his glasses. "I don't usually see you this excited."

"Oh, I, ah…I commissioned something the other day, it's ready to be picked up now. That's all."

"Oh? What is it?"

"Just a hat. I thought it was time to get a new one…" Luke decided that it wasn't _exactly_ a lie. It just wasn't his hat.

"Really? I quite like this one." Paolo tapped the brim of Luke's hat. "It looks good on you. You don't find many guys with your innocence nowadays."

"I—what?" Luke shook his head. "Sorry, I have to—I have to pick up—"

"No problem." Paolo stepped aside, allowing Luke passageway. The don smiled and chuckled to himself as Luke sprinted past, oblivious.

"Here you go!"

Luke accepted the hat box gratefully. "Wonderful! Thank you so much!"

"No problem!" The attendant nodded at him. "I hope he enjoys his new hat."

"Me, too."

"That should be everything. You paid upon commission, so I can let you go."

"Thank you." Luke bowed his way out of the store, clutching the hat box tightly in his hands. He sped back to his dorm, wondering how he should present the gift. Should he use the key to sneak into the office and leave it on the desk? Should he hide it? Should he devise a puzzle and offer it as the reward? There were so many options to be considered…

Luke unlocked his door and shouldered it open. He sat the hat box on the floor and lifted the lid carefully, tentatively.

Pink.

There was just…just _so much pink._ It hurt Luke's eyes to look at directly. What was this?

He lifted the impressive, violently pink hat from its equally offending wrappings. Everything was perfect, down to the last detail…_except for the colour._ How could they have made such an error? He scratched at the sides, hoping fervently that the pink was just another layer to be peeled off…

No. As Luke had feared, the hat really _was_ completely pink. He groaned, then ran back to the communal phones. He shoved a handful of coins into the unwieldy machine and pounded the hat shop's number into the keypad.

Three times the phone rang.

Three times Luke cursed: once for the owner, once for the attendant, once for the hat.

"Hello! How may I help—"

"It's pink!" Luke burst.

"What?"

"It's pink! My hat!"

"That's…that's nice, sir?"

"No, it isn't! You made it pink!"

"Who is this?" The jest in her voice was obvious.

"I was in your shop fifteen minutes ago! _Why is my hat pink?_"

"Oh! It's you! Hello."

Luke didn't reply so much as he growled into the phone.

"Er…well, sir, you specified the hat to be pink."

"I did not!"

"Yes, sir, I have it right here in my notebook."

"I said 'dark brown'!"

"Then why does my book say pink?"

"I don't know why, but it's wrong!"

"Hello?" Suddenly, a different voice. "Why are you yelling at my employee?"

"I'm—I'm not, but you made me a pink hat!"

"Yes, sir. Is it not pink enough for you?"

"It's plenty pink!" Luke snapped. "It's _too_ pink! What am I supposed to do?"

There was a pause on the phone. "Wear it?"

"I ordered a brown hat!"

"Hm." The silence seemed to stretch forever. "Well, if you're sure, I can fix it for you. Bring it to my shop now and I can have it finished for tonight."

"Y-yes! Thank you!" Luke quickly hung up the phone and hurried back to his room. He grabbed the box and lugged it back to the shop as fast as he could manage.

"Hello, sir," the attendant said sheepishly. "Do you have the hat?"

"Right here." Luke deposited the box on the table. The attendant picked it up, then looked down curiously.

"Er…" She set it back and pulled the lid off. "I need the hat, sir…"

"It's in the box," Luke replied bluntly.

"I…I'm afraid not," she said. Luke leaned over and peered inside. Save for the garish tissue paper, the box was empty. Luke said a very ungentlemanly word and sprinted back out of the shop.

Occam's Razor states that the most simple explanation is usually the correct one. In this case, this meant that Luke had somehow lost the hat. However, after two hours of searching his room, it was nowhere to be found. He had pulled the room apart, top to bottom. Belongings lay scattered about the room, sadly forgotten.

Luke wasn't sure what to do. He was running out of time.

Valentine's Day was _tomorrow_.


	14. Chapter 14  Final

**Luke Triton and the Enigmatic Puzzle – Finale –**

In the end, Luke had returned to the hat shop empty-handed. As he had only a few picarats over five hundred and no time to spare, it seemed pointless. He scoured the shelves depressively, ignoring the attendant. She was trying her best to cheer him up, but it was in vain.

Finally, Luke picked out a cheap item and paid for it, then went home.

Perhaps…perhaps if he _wrapped_ it nicely, the professor wouldn't notice how shoddy it was. It was always worth a shot. Luke decorated his handiwork to the best of his ability, but despite his efforts, he was unable to make it anything other than a relatively flat rectangle.

He sighed. It was too late to do anything now. He would face the professor tomorrow and that would be that. There was always next year.

Luke let himself into the office early the next morning, hoping the professor was still at home. He had decided the best strategy would to leave the small package on his desk with a silly puzzle Luke had come up with months ago. He didn't want to face the professor with something like this.

"Good morning, my boy."

Luke jumped, nearly dropping the parcel. "P-professor!"

Layton regarded the boy over folded hands. "You're here rather early. You aren't still sick, are you…?"

"N-no, professor."

"And you slept?"

"Y-yes, professor."

"Good." The professor smiled at last. "Care for some tea?"

"U-um, yes please."

The professor stood and opened his tea drawer, tossing something aside to get to his kettle. Something pink. Pink and tall and—

Luke gasped. "Professor!"

Startled, Layton looked up. "Yes?"

"Where did you get that?" Luke pointed to the hat.

Layton frowned slightly. "My student gave it to me. It's not really in my taste, but it seemed rude to throw it out so soon." He shook his head. "Why would he ever give me such a violently _pink_ hat? A true gentleman would never wear something that doesn't match his outfit." He winked at Luke. "I'm glad you've learned that, eh, my boy?"

Luke looked away, embarrassed. He had never really _bothered_ to wear matching clothes. He just really, really liked the colour blue.

"Ah, that reminds me. I have something for you, too." The professor poured steaming water into the pot and began brewing the tea.

"What?" Luke returned his gaze to the professor. "Why?"

It was the first time Luke saw the professor looking so awkward. "It's Valentine's Day, my boy… I know it isn't conventional, but I figured… a day for appreciation comes by like this, I couldn't let it slide…" He tipped his hat over his eyes. "I'm not making sense, am I…? Oh dear."

"I understand, professor," Luke said quickly.

The professor smiled again. "Thank you, my boy. Anyway, here you go. It's silly, I know, but… Well, it just…reminded me of the old days, I suppose." He lifted an awkwardly wrapped gift up, handing it to his student.

Surprised, Luke tore open the patterned blue paper. A furry teddy bear greeted him from the torn tissue, adorned with a velvety blue ribbon. "I…"

"I know, I know, you're too old for teddy bears." The professor waved his hand. "Like I said, everything I've been getting for you lately… Well, it's really to indulge myself."

"No!" Luke replied quickly, giving the bear a squeeze. "I was going to say…I love it." He grinned, feeling childish. "I mean… it gets lonely in my room. This will be nice."

The professor eyed him sceptically. "I see."

"I'm not lying!" Luke protested. "Honestly! Professor, you should know by now that I'm not." He pursed his lips.

"I'll believe you." The professor reached over and patted the boy's head.

"Oh! And I have something for you, too, professor." Luke blushed, suddenly embarrassed about his meagre offering. "Er, it's sort of small… I tried to get something else, but things happened, so it was all I could afford by the end…"

The professor frowned. "You've been spending all your money on me? Don't be so foolish. Spend it on yourself. That's what youth is for!"

"Oh, and you're really one to talk, professor." Luke handed the package over.

"_I_ can afford it, my boy." The professor delicately peeled the tape off. Layton was very meticulous when it came to these things; he was the type of person to reuse wrapping paper. A thick band of tomato red spilled over his hands. "This is…"

"A ribbon," Luke said. "Er, for your hat. I thought the old one was getting a bit frayed and faded, so I bought a new one. I hope you don't mind. You—you don't have to use it if you don't like it."

The professor ran his fingers over the silk. "No, it is…this is very thoughtful, my boy. Very thoughtful, indeed." He ran his fingers over the brim of his hat. "I shall replace it immediately."

"Do you want me to do it, professor?" Luke offered sheepishly.

"If you would." The professor sat, allowing Luke to cut the old red band from his hat. Luke carefully smoothed the new ribbon around the base and fastened it securely. "You know…there's an old wives' tale about ribbons."

"Oh?" Luke replied absently, adjusting his creation.

"If one person ties a ribbon on the other, they're bound together for eternity."

Luke stopped, feeling his face turn furiously pink. He wondered if he now matched the failed abomination of a hat in the corner of the room. "P-professor?"

The professor smiled up at Luke. "I understand if you think of me as just a stodgy old man, but—"

"I don't!" Luke snapped. "I don't at all!"

"Tsk tsk," Layton scolded. "A true gentleman always lets another finish his sentences."

"S-sorry, professor."

"As I was going to say-but if you would have me, I believe this could be the start of a truly great thing."

"Like—like a puzzle, professor?"

"Yes. Quite the enigmatic one, at that," Layton replied. He paused. "And Luke?"

"Yes?"

"Call me 'Hershel'."

"Yes, prof—H-Hershel."

"Good."


End file.
